The Passing Of Vilya
by Little she-bear
Summary: How the Ring of Air passed from Gil-galad to Elrond. Short and sweet. Many happy returns, Isis!


A/N:  My take on why Elrond ended up with the Vilya after Gil-galad. 

For Isis, happy birthday!  

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**The Passing of Vilya**

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"My Liege, this must be done."  
  


Gil-galad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is it really necessary?"  
  


Elrond's impassive grey eyes met those troubled ones of his King. "This is your last option. If you do not, defeat is inevitable."  
  


"You believe it is worth the risk?"  
  


"Aye My Lord, I do."  
  


Gil-galad regarded his herald seated apposite him for a few moments then smiled. "You seek to reassure me."  
  


"Is that not what a good Vice-Regent should do? Support his King? Advise him?"  
  


The King raised an eyebrow and countered, "But Elrond, your advice in this is not impartial, it cannot be. You are too involved." He sighed and gazed out of his tent to the bleak plain of Dagorlad. So much death and misery had he seen in this place; man, elf, he even felt a stab of sympathy for the orcs. If he could witness but one victory, no matter how small, his spirits would be lifted. He knew that by giving up Vilya, his chances were vastly improved; he would have opportunity to perhaps wrong-foot his opponent.  
  
 Elrond's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Were Cirdan here he would give exactly the same advice."  
  


"Aye, that he probably would!" snapped Gil-galad, "But you know not what you ask of me. This ring was entrusted to me."   
  
Elrond cast his eyes downward and fidgeted uncomfortably, "The final decision is of course yours, your Highness."  
  


"That it is," sighed the King, the weight of his decision seeming to affect him physically as he hunched over the table that separated him from his Vice-Regent.  
 

A few more moments passed before Elrond broke the silence again. "Alas, My Lord, time grows short. You must decide."  
  


Gil-galad laid his palms flat on the table, spreading out his hands and staring at them intently, as though they held the answers he sought. "If I keep the ring, it ends now I fear." He spoke evenly, his voice betraying little emotion. "If I take the other road, my heart tells me that we will continue, so, I believe the possible benefits outweigh the potential sacrifice.  
 

He sat up and slowly, reverently, drew out a mithril chain from beneath his shirt. On it hung Vilya, the Ring of Air, its blue gem glittering in the candle-light.  
 

"So," continued Gil-galad as he laid the ring gently in front of Elrond. "There you have it. I have done my part. What of you?"  
  


Elrond gazed at the ring in front of him, seeming unsure of himself all of a sudden. His eyes flickered back up to the King's, who was staring back at him, as though into his soul. 

Elrond took a deep breath, sent a brief prayer to the Valar and spoke, clearly and defiantly.  
  


"Call."  
  


Gil-galad turned his cards over on the table. "Full house."  
  


"Straight flush."  
  


"What?" The King's eyebrows shot up almost into his hairline. "Wha-b-but…You've _never_ had a flush before! I thought you were bluffing, I could have sworn you were bluffing!"  
  


Elrond cackled gleefully as he reached forward and pulled the Ring towards him, along with a large collection of coins, some less politically significant jewellery and food rations.  
 

"Ah, that's a good haul."  
  


"Elrond," wheedled Gil-galad, "please don't take my ring!"  
  


"Uh-uh," Elrond shook his head before slipping the mithril chain over it. "_My ring now."  
  
_

"It's not fair!"  
  


"Hey, you don't want to take the risk, you fold. You made your big gambler's bed, you sleep in it. This game was all your idea, remember?"  
  


"I know," whined the King as he buried his head in his hands, "It's just I get so bored here, I get so _bloody bored_!"  
  


"Well, Ereinion, I was thinking of quitting while I was ahead but if you'd like to continue"-  
  


"I've nothing to bet with. Do you think I would have wagered Vilya if I had anything else?"  
  


"Aeglos?" inquired Elrond, smiling sweetly.  
  


"No way. You're not getting your filthy peredhel mitts on _that."  
  
_

"Well," Elrond chuckled, rising from his seat, "It is late, I shall retire. It's been a pleasure Ereinion it really has. I hate to leave you like this but seeing you so gracious in defeat has me quite overcome."  
  
The King folded his arms and shot a glare at Elrond so venomous, a Balrog would have thought twice before approaching him.  
 

"Goodnight Ereinion," Elrond called back as he left the tent. The King replied with a grunt and prepared to sulk the night away.

_And thus it was that the mightiest of the Elven Rings passed from the High King to Elrond of Rivendell, in a high-stake game of poker and Gil-galad did kick himself, until the end of his days._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: If they can have golf in Middle Earth they can have poker. And I was soooooo tempted to put this under 'drama/angst…';) 


End file.
